


Chasing After You

by skysedge



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Beatrix/Cassius, Spoilers for Spaghetti Syndrome event, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23786374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysedge/pseuds/skysedge
Summary: Being a fugitive had sounded a lot more fun in trashy romance novels.Facing an uncertain future and mourning the past, Beatrix comes to realise that she's not the only one who has been changed by the collapse of the Society. Something is different about Eustace, too.
Relationships: Beatrix/Eustace (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	Chasing After You

Being a fugitive had sounded a lot more fun in trashy romance novels. 

Not that Beatrix has ever actually  _ read _ those things, not properly, it was just this one time she and Zeta had picked one up that  Ilsa had left on the table after lunch and they had both laughed so hard that they had cried. It hadn’t been  _ all  _ bad, once she had gotten past the excessive use of handcuffs and the way the author kept using the word ‘throbbing’ but....

“Beatrix! Look where you’re going!”

….but she really shouldn’t be thinking about that while she’s running for her life. 

She dodges to the left at the last moment, leaping past the tree that had been seconds away from braining her. Bullets thud into the trunk, sending splinters spraying into the air. She manages to turn a squeak of shock into a shout, throwing an angry glance to her right.

“I knew it was there! Why don’t you look where  _ you’re  _ going?”

It’s not a great comeback but it would work if she was running with Zeta, or  Vaseraga , or even  Cassi \- but she’s  _ not _ , she’s running for her life with Eustace and Eustace is so...so....

“Focus,” he orders, not even turning to look at her. “This isn’t the time to trip up.”

Eustace is  _ cool.  _ Stupidly cool. Cool enough that there’s no way in hell she’s ever going to tell him that. Still, it’s an inescapable fact. 

It’s like this.

It’s been another bad day in a long series of bad days, she can’t even keep track of the people that are chasing them anymore, and these idiots have been pursuing them for  _ hours.  _ Her feet hurt from running, she’s grazed her hands from hauling herself up rocky banks and her hair is all frizzed up and prickly from all the lightning that Eustace has been pumping into the air. They’re both tired, and injured, and pissed off. She knows she wears her emotions all over her face. But Eustace Eustace is a different story. He’s barely broken a sweat. His hair looks windswept instead of messy. His expression is blank, as always, right up until he shoots her a glance and  _ smirks.  _

_ “ _ Is that the fastest you can run?”

He’s a jerk. A cool, calm jerk. Beatrix has had enough.

“Argh, that  _ does _ it!”

Running really isn’t her style. She runs straight for the next tree, ignoring Eustace’s shout of warning, and jumps straight at it. Planting her foot firmly against the trunk she kicks off and away from the tree, spinning back towards their pursuers with her sword held aloft. She’s a storm of whirling steel, voice roaring in triumph, and she’s damn sure she looks cool doing it. It’s be better with Embrasque, she knows, but this sword cuts nobodies like this down easily enough. All four of them fall in a spray of blood and she lands in the middle with a grin. 

“Well!” she says, turning to face Eustace with her sword set on her shoulder. “What do you think about,  _ that _ , mister-”

Wait. All  _ four _ ?

“Get down!”

The air above her explodes with the crackle of lightning and she flings herself to the ground. Looking up wildly through a curtain of her own hair, Beatrix sees the remaining two pursuers collapse into twitching heaps atop their comrades. 

“Six,” she sighs, struggling back to her feet. “There were  _ six.  _ Damn it. Still...”

It takes her a moment to get her hair out of her face, the static making it stick to her cheeks, but once she’s spat it all out she sets her hands on her hips and beams.

“That was awesome, right?”

“That,” Eustace says, shouldering his gun and stepping towards her, “was reckless.”

“Heh heh! You’re just jealous that you didn’t think of it first.”

“What would you have done if you’d been injured?” he asks. “Or if reinforcements arrived?”

It’s...a valid question. Which is why she raises her chin and shrugs.

“I could’ve handled them.”

“Not on your own.”

She opens one eye to see Eustace checking the fallen for signs of movement, the slightest trace of a frown on his lips. Now that they’re not running, he does look a little tired. There’s blood running down his cheek, he’s torn parts of his sleeves, and his breathing is ragged. They’ve worked together long enough that she knows a smile is usually only a few sentences away from his standard frown but this is different. He seems weary, all the way through.

“Maybe not,” she says slowly, relenting. “But I’ve got you, today right?”

He meets her eyes and for a split second she would swear he looks surprised. Unusual. Nothing she says has ever surprised him. And then he gives her a smile so soft she’s sure she’s seeing things.

“Yeah,” he says. “You have.”

The moment is weird. Weirder is the way her cheeks flare up in instant response. She steps over one of the fallen men with a triumphant laugh and walks straight past Eustace and deeper into the trees, fully expecting to be teased. 

“All that running,” she calls. “I’m beat. Can we cool off a bit before we head back to base?”

It’s an excuse and she knows it. She knows damn well that Eustace knows it too. They’ve worked together long enough that he knows all her excuses. That’s why it’s doubly weird when instead of calling her out on it he just starts to follow her quietly.

“Sure,” he agrees. “We should lay low and see if there’s any more of them coming.”

“Right? Sergeant Ilsa would kick our butts if we led people back to our super-secret safehouse.”

“She’d kick  _ your  _ butt,” he corrects, falling into step beside her. “Did you learn the word ‘safehouse’ from one of her books?”

The noise Beatrix makes in surprise isn’t human.

“N-no!  _ What  _ books? How do  _ you  _ even know about-”

“So that’s a yes.”

“It’s not like I  _ enjoyed  _ them or anything!”

“Why not?” he asks, starting to climb up a bank that leads deeper into the woods. “I did. Let’s rest in the foliage up here.”

“You  _ what?!” _

For the next ten minutes, Beatrix tries unsuccessfully to get Eustace to elaborate. As she screeches, shouts, teases and ultimately gives in to slapping his arms and shoulders  in an effort to beat the answer out of him, he just laughs gently and checks his gear over for damage. Once she calms  down she realises that this, too, is weird. She’s used to being teased, she’s even used to being laughed at and ignored. That’s all part of the package when it comes to the idiots she’s teamed up with. What’s weird is the way Eustace keeps glancing at her, the way his laughter has just a little more warmth in it than usual. He’s just a bit more. real, like this. It’s throwing her off balance.

Sitting down and resting is giving her way too much time to think. Tucking her legs up underneath herself, Beatrix levels Eustace with an inquisitive stare. He’s inspecting  Flamek as methodically as always, legs sprawled in the dirt in front of him. To anyone else, maybe, nothing would seem out of the ordinary. It would be best not to say anything but...jeez. Too much thinking sucks. She’s always preferred the direct approach anyway.

“Hey,” she ventures. “Are you feeling all right?”

There’s that look again; a momentary flicker of surprise. This time she even catches a twitch of his ears. She doesn’t get a chance to tease him about it because instead of brushing her off with a ‘yeah’ like he usually would, he sets  Flamek aside to give her his full attention and nods.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?” she presses, gesturing to the drying blood on his cheek. “Even with an owie like that? Grazes sting  _ so  _ bad, trust me, I know.”

“I’m a grown man, I can handle it.” Eustace gives her a smile that does  _ something  _ to her stomach and then continues. “Really, I’m fine. Am I doing anything  in particular to make you worry?”

How is she supposed to answer when he phrases it like that? It’s not like doing anything wrong. She fiddles with a strand of her hair and sighs.

“Well, no, but...” 

“But?”

Ugh, having a proper conversation with him is always difficult. He has a way of getting right to the point when she could do with beating around the bush a little longer. And now that she has his full attention, his stare is piercing. She hums in thought and shifts until she’s sitting cross-legged, then averts her gaze to the ground before replying.

“You’ve been acting different,” she admits. “Since...”

_ A distant pinprick of light vanishing into the atmosphere, the scent of blood and smoke in the air, the house of cards of a ‘life’ she had been clinging on to falling apart around her. _

_ “Who else am I going to share my bread with if he doesn’t come back?” _

“S-Since...”

The words die in her throat. She can’t say it. This is the last thing she had wanted to talk about. Biting her lip just barely keeps tears at bay. It’s been a  tough few weeks , of  _ course  _ Eustace is acting weird, she didn’t need to start this stupid conversation and-

“You actually noticed, huh.” 

His quiet murmur cuts her thoughts short. She looks up to see him giving her a smile. He sets  Flamek back into its holster and raises one hand to brush some hair out of his face, a simple gesture but one she’s never seen him make idly before. It catches her off guard and she gapes for a moment in surprise.

“ _ Hah _ ?” she manages, blood rushing to her cheeks. “What?”

“I’m glad.”

It’s not an answer. Instead of giving one, Eustace reaches into his pack and retrieves a med kit. Beatrix stares at him in abject confusion as he withdraws a small bottle of antiseptic spray and leans towards her.

“What’re you-”

The stupid hissing noise the spray makes is disproportionate to the pain that blossoms in one of her thighs. She gasps and glances down to see a graze she hadn’t noticed before, now a hot line of fire between the top of her armoured greaves and her shorts. 

“That stings,” she says reproachfully. 

“Sorry.”

Eustace presses some gauze to the wound and Beatrix is struck by just how close he is. He smells like gunpowder and leather, at odds with how soft his voice is when he speaks again.

“I’ve been trying to...” He frowns and visibly struggles for the right words. “Express myself more. Around you.”

“You’re bad at it.”

Crap _ , _ that sounds way worse than she had meant it to. It’s just that she’s embarrassed, and off-kilter, and she’s so used to their dynamic being jibes and insults that she’s not sure how else to address him. 

“I know,” he says, pulling away and sitting back by his pack, disposing of the gauze. “I’m sorry.”

Double crap, she can’t leave it like that. Even if he  _ is  _ bad at it, for some reason he’s been  making an effort for her and it’s unfair of her to ignore that. 

“Don’t be.” 

Her cheeks are hot as she leans over him to reach his pack, taking hold of the antiseptic and some fresh gauze. Close up, the wound on his cheek looks  pretty nasty . She steadies herself with one hand on his knee and cleans the wound with the other, carefully avoiding meeting his eyes. She works slowly, waiting for a joke or a playful insult, but Eustace is being quiet again. She manages to finish without either of them saying a word. Once she’s put the things  away she hesitates, still leaning forwards, and looks up to meet his eyes.

Most of the time, Eustace is hard to read. But in this moment his eyes are kind, and patient, and she knows she has to say something. Hurting his feelings is unthinkable.

“Don’t be sorry,” she repeats with a sigh, her voice small and uncertain. “You just surprised me, is all. You know I’m not good at subtle stuff. But you’re fine. You don’t have to force yourself to act a certain way.”

Holding eye contact is too much, too intense. She lowers her head and a lock of hair falls across her face. She brushes it back, self-conscious, too aware of the tense muscle of his leg beneath her hand. Still, he says nothing. 

“Look,” she tries again. “The way you are has never bothered me, you know?”

“Yeah.”

He shifts and suddenly he’s pressing his hand to her own, tucking her hair more firmly behind her ear. Beatrix freezes, her heart pounding. Eustace doesn’t  _ do  _ physical contact. She hadn’t realised his hands would be so warm. She holds her breath, eyes drawn inexorably upwards, and he’s so close that she can feel his breath on her cheek. He sways forwards and for a moment she’s fine, she’s  _ happy,  _ but then it’s all too much and fear forces her into action. She scoots back, landing inelegantly on her butt, and the moment is broken. 

“Sorry,” he says softly.

_ God damnit _ , she’s hurt his feelings again. Beatrix groans aloud in frustration, hands balling into fists in the dirt. 

“It’s fine.”

_ “ _ No, I-”

“ _ A-Anyway,  _ there’s no reason that you should be acting differently,” she ploughs on, so desperate to change the topic that she’s heedlessly careening into another one she doesn’t want to broach. The words come out fast, bitter, all misplaced anger and exasperation. “No one else is. You’re all acting as if nothing’s happened. Like this is all normal. As if you’ve forgotten that he’s...”

**_ Icnoming _ ** **__ ** **_ Phidcast _ ** **_.  _ **

She can hear it every time she closes her eyes.

“Coming back,” she finishes in a whisper. “Cassius is...”

She hasn’t said his name for a  week and it  _ hurts _ . Everything hurts. It’s too much. Losing him. Losing everything. Being on the run, all the time. Even today, feeling a warmth and softness she hadn’t expected is agonising. How can she enjoy anything, like this? She doesn’t deserve to be happy about anything, not when she failed him so badly, not when he’s-

A gentle weight on top of her head stops her thoughts from spiralling. She blinks away tears to find Eustace has moved to sit next to her. He takes his hand  off of her head and hums in thought.

“It’s been hard for you,” Eustace says.

It has. All of it. Her throat is burning and she can’t say it aloud.

“I’ve been selfish,” he murmurs and her stomach twists even further. This is all wrong.

“... no you haven’t,” she manages at length. “It’s hard on you, too. Everyone copes  differently I guess. You’re just being kind to me.”

It’s more than that. They both know it. Just as they both know that she’s not ready to think about what he means to her, what Cassius had meant to her, what he still does. For a  time they sit in silence, both staring into the foliage as if seeking an answer. Eventually, Eustace nods.

“All right,” he says. “But I still should have said something sooner. Long before this.”

They could leave it at this. She  _ should leave  _ it at this. But she’s always been her own worst enemy and instead she gets to her feet and sets her hands on her hips, leaning forwards as if in challenge. 

“You haven’t really said anything,” she points out. Eustace raises an eyebrow and nods.

“I guess not.”

“If there's something you want to say to me, just say it,” she demands. “Making me ask isn’t fair.”

And ordering him to tell her isn’t fair, either, but it’s too late for that. She holds her defiant pose, even putting a smile on her face, when inwardly she’s panicking. Eustace slowly gets to his feet and stretches his arms above his head and so help her she watches carefully.

“I’ve always thought,” he says slowly, taking a step forwards, “that actions speak louder than words.”

One more step is enough to bring them face to face and all too soon he’s leaning forwards and she can’t breathe. She squeezes her eyes shut, too far in to back down now, and  lets out a squeak as Eustace presses his lips to her forehead.

“You don’t have to force yourself,” he whispers. “And you don’t have to give up on him. None of us are going to. We’ll stand by you.”

Her eyes are stinging again. She raises her hands to grasp at the front of his clothes, willing them not to shake. He’s patient, as always, rests his head on top of hers and gives her a moment to think. Too bad that her brain never works very well under pressure. All she can manage is that she could really do with a hug right now and that it would be unfair to ask for one. Everything is unfair in this damn stupid world. She wants to see Cassius again, to talk to him, to get some answers, so that she can answer Eustace with more than the nervous laugh she’s forcing now.

“ It’s...complicated, huh?”

His arms come up to circle around her and she relaxes into the hold even if she shouldn’t.

“Mm,” he breathes, seemingly in no rush to move. She allows herself to count twenty beats of his heart and then raises her voice nervously.

“Hey. Eustace?”

“Yes?”

_ Hellcat. Eustace. Are you receiving?  _

A sudden crackle from their  transceivers cuts through the air. Beatrix jumps and colours now with rage as she hears Eustace laughing at her before picking up.

“Go ahead.”

_ You’re late. Did something happen? _

Eustace relaxes his hold and Beatrix steps away, busying herself with hoisting her pack onto her back. She presses the backs of her hands to her face, hoping to cool it down.

“We were pursued,” he explains calmly. “But the situation has been resolved. We’re heading back now.”

_ Good. Hurry up. Don’t make me come out there to drag you back by the ears. _

_ “ _ Understood.”

Eustace ends the call just as Beatrix is turning back around. He’s still smiling, somehow, and moves past her wordlessly to collect his own things. For a few minutes it’s business as usual, covering their tracks, checking the surrounding area, planning a route. It’s only as they set out again that Beatrix is sure something has changed. Eustace keeps glancing at her, as if he’s checking up on her. She’s always been too proud to ask for anyone to look after her but  actually it’s nice, being given that sort of attention. It’s what she’s been needing. 

It’s making her comfortable enough to think about why they’re here, and what they’re doing. About who’s not going to be there when they get back. It doesn’t hurt any less than before but just acknowledging the pain is better than avoiding it. 

She’s not going to give up. None of them are. 

“Hey,” she says, leaning  in to nudge Eustace in the side.

“Hm?”

“Thanks.”

She offers him a smile and is surprised but gratified to get one in return. 

“Sure. Let’s go.”

She hopes Eustace won’t give up, either. However long it might take.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you know this ship name auto translates as 'youth bear'? Amazing.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by! You can find me on twitter @_zenbee!


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